8 0 s G u i t a r i s t s
Pick favorites out of several unbelievable players? Next to impossible. Some of these guys took the concept of what the electric guitar was capable of and turned it completely inside out.
MORSE • JOHNSON • SATRIANI • RHOADS
S T E V E M O R S E
My first exposure to the genius of Steve Morse came in 1982 when, on the advice of a friend, I bought the Dregs' LP, Unsung Heroes. Through the Dregs, and its earlier incarnation the Dixie Dregs, Morse had whipped up his own instrumental stew, a category-defying fusion of rock / jazz / blues / bluegrass and classical - well marinated in Southern BBQ - that journeys well beyond "progressive." I soon picked up everything I could get my hands on. To this day I scour the internet for anything Steve has played on.
My favorite tracks are those opuses that appear on almost every recording - the sweeping, majestic pieces that sound almost like film themes - and of course they always climax with a superbly crafted and impossibly complex guitar solo. Despite some high-profile vocals on a couple of mid-80s recordings, none of Steve's efforts has ever broken into the mainstream, and this is sad. But his muscular approach to riffing and soloing, his jaw-dropping technique and his mature compositional skills have won him a fervently loyal following, and his exceptional gifts are recognized among music's elite. Truly a guitarist's guitarist.
I caught the Steve Morse Band at New York's Bottom Line around 1984, and the reforming Dixie Dregs at the Ritz Theater around '91, and his mastery of the electric guitar, his taste, energy and dynamics, are something to behold. Yet one of my fondest memories is from '83, when I saw Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Paco de Lucia - three of the world's most formidable Flamenco-Jazz players - at the Tower Theater in Upper Darby, PA. In the middle of the show, unbeknownst to all (except, perhaps, the three), Morse trucked out on stage with an acoustic steel-string and took a seat with them. The crowd went ballsitic. Suffice it to say that he more than held his own.
E R I C J O H N S O N
I first heard Eric on the 1985 Steve Morse Band album, Stand Up. I was familiar with the name from an article I'd read in Guitar Player. Johnson is actually singing a song called Distant Star, one of the few vocal tunes Morse produced. I can remember reading the liner notes (LPs used to have lots of room for these!) as I dropped the stylus onto the disc. I was intrigued by the quality of his voice, the music and the lyric - it occurred to me that this was actually an EJ song with SM contributing.
Well, Morse's solo came up first, and it was what I expected - a rollicking, astounding affair - but then Eric closes the song. Superbly melodic, tone-drenched and emotional, cascading flurries of notes and violin-like sustain soaring over ringing layers of chords. My goosebumps had goosebumps! I soon found a promo copy of 1986's Tones, and of course I snatched up Ah Via Musicom and Venus Isle the moment they hit the shelves. I've since tracked down Electromagnets, Seven Worlds, Alien Love Child: Live and Beyond, and Souvenir, as well as a handful of guest appearances and compilations. I've seen him perform live (between Buddy Guy and B.B. King, of all places!) and it is really a treat. EJ's compositions are classy - his stylistic vocabulary is remarkable and his command of tone and texture are stunning. His always tasteful solos move seamlessly between mellow and thrilling, lyrical and ferocious. Another guitarist's guitarist, to be sure.
J O E S A T R I A N I
I was wandering through a Boston record store in 1988 when I heard something that made my neck prickle. They were playing Surfing with the Alien, and the salesman I spoke to, himself a working guitarist, was more than pleased to share all he knew about Joe. I hit the street with a used copy of Not of this Earth, and soon picked up Surfing. For the next several years I'd scoop up each new recording - Flying in a Blue Dream possibly being my favorite.
Among the qualities that set Satch apart are his startling creativity, his deeply emotional-spiritual nature and his sense of humor. He's a gigantic talent who won't take himself too seriously. Some feel that, considering his ability, JS ought to be playing more "sophisticated" music. But c'mon, folks, it is what it is: Good-time surf music performed by an otherworldly being! I've seen him a couple of times, and it's mind-boggling to watch a man possessed of such control having so much fun. Pick up his Live in San Francisco DVD for two-plus hours of quintessential Satriani.
R A N D Y R H O A D S
Southern California, Summer 1981: Fierce desert heat wrestles with cool Pacific breezes and I'm speeding recklessly along twisted roads under the eternal sun, cranking the volume well past what speakers should take. This is how Randy's music should be heard. I first heard his artistry on KROQ FM, on Quiet Riot's Slick Black Cadillac, and it stood my hair on end. Ozzy Osbourne had picked him up not long after that, and until then I had never heard anything in rock sound so vast. Rhoads had imagination and technique to spare, and the world lost a giant when he died. Whether you like Ozzy or not, Blizzard of Ozz and Diary of a Madman are, for the serious rock guitarist, essential listening.